


Cherry Knots

by DevilishDaddy



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Foreplay, Jealousy, M/M, No Sex, Oral Fixation, Pole Dancing, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, Teasing, candy cherries, oral stimulation, stem tying, tongue play, tying knots with tongue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishDaddy/pseuds/DevilishDaddy
Summary: Where in Miami Morty gets challenged to a college-level cherry tying contest by a skanky fem!Morty after his man.





	Cherry Knots

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, and welcome to my latest fiction! 
> 
> This one doesn't have any actual sex in it, but there are lots of perverted descriptions and suggestions inside. I wanted to do something else around the concept of "Miamis and their oral fixations", so here it is!

Dancing was Miami Morty’s passion. The stage was lit a hot pink that night to match the theme. It was Red Night at the club Divine Damnation, one of Miami Rick’s many branch joints that tended to focus on featuring Mortys in a mix of catholic and leather wear. Miami was sporting a particularly fine pair of white leather panties with a thin back that easily sank between his tight ass cheeks; shapely, knee-high, high-heeled boots decorated with buckles and crucifixes; a tight, oversized, white belt that hugged his chest like a tube top; and a super fluffy white coat with two little angel wings jutting off the back. The entire getup was a far cry from Morty’s usual style, but the club did well and the venue was packed. Few things beat out an applauding audience and a chance to earn a small fortune.

          All around his circular stage, horn dog Ricks–and a few frisky Mortys–hooted and hollered for the performer. One Rick had pushed his way to the edge of the stage, they were allowed to do that in this facility as long as they didn’t get handsy, and waved a fan of cash to entice the lithe little fairy his way. 

          Morty teased that Rick with half a glance and a flippant toss of his bleached hair. He visited the center pole and walked around it once, his arm stretched out as the palm and his fingers effortlessly slid along the polished surface. Then he kicked off and tossed himself into a half-cartwheel, locked the pole in the crook of one knee, and began contorting his body for the pleasure of anyone watching. He rolled his exposed stomach and let his hands go free from the pole so that they could caress their way up his sides. Then they hung down over his head and, as he turned, he lost his coat. 

          The cash-fanning Rick grinned when they locked eyes. Morty pulled the fat-headed sucker from between his painted pink lips and made a show of lapping at the sugary orb. He managed this while he used one hand and his legs to twirl and shift around the pole. Unlike some of the other Mortys that performed at Rick’s clubs and casinos, the Kingpin’s boy had no issue with morality. He’d do anything he wanted to get what he desired.

          Lowering himself down the pole and walking back a step on his hands was an easy enough feat for the showman. It was tossing his feet over in a slow and graceful manner while maintaining a sense of sex appeal that was hard. As Morty’s legs fell forward and his spine curved in a dangerous arch, his taught six pack peaked from behind his soft center. He was careful not to lose that tiny bit of extra meat that made his strong body appear youthful and supple, but strenuous acts like these often gave him away. Still, the Ricks didn’t mind, especially the cash-fanning oggler who had been brought face-to-face with the dancer’s shapely ass. 

          As the gymnast’s motion came to an end, Rick’s attention rolled from the boy’s exposed ass cheeks to his carefully concealed groin, then to that straining center as Morty pulled his upper body into an upright position. The young man sat on his knees, lollipop stick hanging out from between his lips, and pushed his hips towards the Rick as they swayed. 

          “Well, hello there, sweetheart,” the Rick growled. “Did heaven send you to play as my guardian angel tonight?”

          The line was played out ages before it was said, but Morty simply smiled in that grandpa-tickling way and slurped at the edge of his candy as it popped out of place. “I’m sure they must have sent me for something,” he started. He shifted and tugged the edge of his panties down so that his cock’s base could just be seen. He was clean shaven and smooth as a boy half his age. Then he gave that Rick his award winning pout, “But for the life of me, all I wanna do is dance. Do you think I fell just to dance for you?”

          “Ohhhh, yeah, baby boy. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be my pretty little dancer tonight.” 

          Morty giggled shamelessly and the Rick laughed along in that way only creeps really could. Cash cows were the worst.

 

After convincing that piggy to give up all the change in his bank, Morty pulled off stage and trotted over to the VIP section. He’d scored way more than the fans’ worth and he was eager to hear Rick’s praise for the performance. However, when Morty made it halfway to Rick’s table, Morty realized that it was likely the asshole had missed his marvelous performance. 

          “Who’s this tramp?” Morty asked in a very openly pissy way. The woman he was referring to was a brunette bimbo in a tight red dress with a slit running so far up her hip that her naked panty line was clearly visible. 

          Rick shot the boy a look made of broken glass. The woman just giggled and leaned onto Rick’s shoulder. Morty inwardly gagged as he watched Rick’s arm slowly vanish between the bitch’s barely clothed gazongas. She hugged his arm in that defensive way that a jealous girlfriend might, all fat red lips pulled back in a smile around polished white teeth. Everything about her was trite and phoney, but that’s how Rick liked them. It’s the only kind of woman he chose to keep time with at his special VIP tables.

          “Isn’t this your son, Rick? Aww! He’s so cute!” She giggled again and nuzzled her nose against Rick’s earlobe. 

          “Grandson,” Rick corrected. “And he’s being a rude little shit right now. Not cute at all.” 

          Morty got the look that said “sit your ass down or fuck off”. He obeyed reluctantly, plans for disrupting the happy couple brewing in the background. 

          “Grandson?!” The trophy gasped as if everyone in the damn place didn’t know the facts. “But Papa Rick,” she added with a pouting lilt to her tone. “You’re not old enough to be a granddaddy yet.” 

          Morty inwardly seethed as the cliche circled her finger around Rick’s bare chest where his button up just refused to stay clothed. Her fingers caressed the gold chain that currently hung there and then playfully twisted some of his pure white chest hairs. The boy sitting across from them bit into his sucker out of irritation, an act he didn’t like to stress because it ruined the sucker’s suckable integrity. The partially translucent blue sugar ball cracked and then split apart on his tongue. He glowered as Rick laughed, legitimately enjoying the skank’s regurgitated flirts. 

          “Yeah,” Morty said, rolling his eyes. He rolled the broken chunks of candy around in his mouth, pulled the now naked white stick from between his lips, and dropped it into the martini he figured belonged to the female. It was a quiet protest to her existence. “Right. He looks about ready to hit puberty any day now. A regular and shining example of youth.”

          “Shut the fuck up, Morty.” Rick growled under his words. His eyes never left the woman’s now that they were threatening to kiss. “Why don’t you go dance or something.” 

          “I already  _ danced _ , Rick.” Morty pulled out the stack of cash he had tied off and slammed it on the table a little too hard. Rick didn’t look over, but the woman did. She eyed the bills until she was sent into another giggling fit. 

          Morty’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. Rick had taken an opening when the gold digger had turned her head. He started nuzzling and then kissing her neck, slowly urging her into his lap.

          Now she was blushing and fidgeting and giggling–so annoying!–and Rick was chuckling and kissing and whispering disgusting things to her. Morty didn’t have to see Rick’s hands sliding up the skirt of that red-clad thigh to know it was happening. He didn’t need to see the large, growing bulge in Rick’s pants to know it was becoming ever more present. 

          Just the thought of these things made Miami Morty’s blood boil. 

          The boy crossed his arms and looked away. “Get a- get a damn room,” Morty hissed under his breath. He had thought to say it aloud, but he hadn’t really meant to do it. 

          He looked up, eyes only, and found Rick leering back at him over the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. His long tongue reached out and snaked up the tanned flesh of his slut’s elegant neck as he kept a locked gaze with his grandson. It was an effective middle finger that left the woman wet and the boy furious and slightly aroused. Now it was personal. Rick was cock-teasing, waving the woman around in front of Morty’s face. The bastard was doing it on purpose now; he was showing off and daring Morty to do anything about it.

 

          “Ron?” Morty snapped his fingers and called over a bodyguard Rick that went by the name Ron for reasons Morty never asked. Ron stepped forward and awaited his superior. “Can you fetch me a bowl of cherries from the kitchen? I want something sweet to wash the taste of shit out of my mouth.”

          Ron looked to the boss for confirmation, an act Morty was used to but still hated, and then left. When he returned, it was with a large glass serving bowl packed to the edge with fresh, bright red cherries. The candied kind you’d normally put on ice cream, not the semi-sour raw fruit kind. 

          “Thank you, Ron.” Miami Morty batted his eyelashes up at the man dressed in the standard black T and jeans. He saw Ron swallow thick and return to his station nearby. 

          “Ooooo!” The female wiggled forward and stole one of the cherries. She made a show of picking it up between two nimble fingertips. Her nail polish matched the hue of the treat. “I just love  _ this _ kind.”

          Morty watched Rick watch the winch slip the entire thing, syrup-covered stem and all, between her lips. It vanished and the lady Morty with her huge jugs worked the helpless thing around in her mouth for a moment. Then, with a clear sense of pride, she slowly pulled a lonely tied stem out from between pursed lips.

          “Oh, ho, ho—~” Rick grinned and wrapped his left arm around her small waist. “Well aren’t you a talent.”

          “Pffft!” Morty scoffed, earning him the first sour look of the night from the trollop. She quickly hid her aggravation and then offered that Miami try it if he thought it was so easy. “Sure,” Morty replied. A grin spread across his lips. This bimbo has no idea who she was challenging.

          The first cherry disappeared and a simple knot came out in under three seconds. Morty presented it simply by sticking out his tongue. 

          “Oh! How cute!” The game was on. She turned to Rick, pretending it was nothing more than the cutest trick she’d ever seen. “Did you teach him how to do that?”

          “Kid’s just got an oral fixation. Taught himself, that’d be my guess.” Rick spoke to his new companion but his eyes were now on his Morty. 

          The jealous date didn’t appreciate that one bit and leaned over too far so that her ass was unusually elevated and pressed against Rick’s chest. She made a show of shifting her hips and picking out three very special cherries from the bowl. She sat back down, now in Rick’s lap, and asked him to feed the cherries to her. 

          Of course, the pervert obliged the woman, if only to antagonize. A long moment later, and after a lot of gratuitous and unnecessary noises, she pulled one big knot from between her lips.

          “How’s that, big papa?” she asked Rick. 

          “Impressive.” He whistled to emphasize his point. He lifted an eyebrow and leaned in to whisper in her ear. His left hand slid down and groped near her ass. She gasped playfully and giggled again, no doubt being asked what else she could tie in knots with that tongue.

          While they acted like fools, Morty took cherry after cherry into his mouth. It wasn’t until his eighth one that the red-clad temptress even noticed. Then she mocked him with her earnest concern, speaking down to him as though she were someone’s mother and he were a small child.

          “Oh, sweety! You shouldn’t eat those so quickly, and spit out those stems or you might choke.” 

          Miami Morty popped another two candy cherries into his mouth rebelliously. The female looked toward Rick. 

          “Is he throwing a tantrum? He shouldn’t swallow those.”

          “Eh? Who cares. Let the little bastard choke if he wants to.” Rick gave his wolffish grin and started shamelessly working his right hand around and between her legs. His left hand slipped up her hip and he started squeezing her closest tit.

          “Rick~!” She laughed and halfheartedly tried to get him to stop. “I’m serious. Hey-!” Giggle giggle giggle, but no real resistance. Morty thought she’d totally let Rick fuck her right there, in front of his grandson and in the sight of anyone in the club who might choose just then to look over. 

          After the twenty fifth cherry, Miami stood and slipped his pinched fingers between his lips. His sudden movement caught Rick’s attention, which in turn caught the girl’s. They both stared, first in dull curiosity and then with mixed amazement as the blond boy pulled a carefully constructed chain of linked cherry knots from between his teeth. He worked them out slowly to really drag the experience out, but when he had finished with the twenty-fifth knot he simply placed the chain on the table cloth. 

          “I’m heading up to the hotel, Rick,” he said. He stretched his taught core in his white leather angel costume as one arm pulled the other above his head. “I think I’m gonna take–get out of these clothes and take a shower.” He snagged up half the stack of cash he had earned that night. “Maybe order a pizza.” He turned, his hair and hips swaying as he did so. “Later!” 

          Miami made it into the elevator that would take him from the club up to his five-star suite before the door was caught. 

          “Hmm? Going up, mister?”

          Rick entered and let the doors close behind him. It was evident that he left his date in a hurry. She hadn’t even had time to take care of the extra limb creeping down his pant leg.

          “You’re so fucking needy,” Rick said.

          “ _ You _ chased  _ me _ , Rick.” Morty held his ground with a confident and calm smile plastered on his face. He casually pulled a lollipop from his secret pocket in the vest of the furry white coat. Before he could start to unwrap it, Rick grabbed his wrist. 

          “Don’t bother,” Miami Rick demanded. “You’re not gonna need it.”

          Rick pushed the button to the top floor without looking back at the panel. He pushed forward and trapped Morty’s arm against the elevator’s back wall. His body pressed flush against Morty’s and he stared down at his flesh and blood. 

          “Why’s that,  _ Boss _ ?” 

          Rick visibly shuddered. He loved that nickname. He returned the favor. “Because, baby boy, I’ve got something juicer for you to suck on.”

          They loved the cheesy dialogue. Rick instantly bent down and wrapped his other arm around Morty to help lift him up. His toothpick fell to the floor of the elevator as their tongues started to battle for dominance. They ground off on one another and had swapped a fair amount of spit before the elevator’s bell dinged and the doors opened up to their floor. 

          Panting, Rick smiled down at Morty. Morty returned the pleased look as Rick readied to lead him to their bedroom. The older man lifted Morty up and helped him lock his legs around his thin hips. They made out all the way to the door, down the hall, and as they fell over onto the plush mattress together. Only then did they take a breath. 

          Rick looked excitedly into Morty’s eyes. The last words before he unbelted himself made his grandson giggle in his charming way. “Y-you know, Morty? I like it. You taste like cherries.”

          “You’re a dumbass, Rick. Just fuck me already.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Remember to bookmark, comment, and heart it if you like it and would like me to do more stories like this one. Your support not only gives me motivation and life, but hearing back from you also guarantees that I will always return with another story. It's true! Haha!
> 
> Also, you can visit my tumblr and make story requests of your own. Just go here: https://authordevilishdaddy.tumblr.com/
> 
> Have a great day! Hope to see you again soon.


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